


tea in the time of the end

by choose_joy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, technically, the power of a cup of tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choose_joy/pseuds/choose_joy
Summary: Jon really doesn't like tea.Until he meets Martin.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 23
Kudos: 90





	tea in the time of the end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmaine/gifts).



Jon has never really liked tea. 

Growing up, he was teased mercilessly for it. What kind of Brit doesn’t like tea? Him, apparently.

As he got older, it wasn’t as much of a problem. Not because he grew to enjoy the taste (god, no), but because people just... stopped caring. Not that there were many people who he saw on a regular enough basis to even make some kind of comment.

So, at 28 years of age, he’s found himself quite content to drink tea as little as possible (accepting a cup when he’s following up on a statement is, unfortunately, mostly inevitable). He’ll stick with a cool glass of water, or a cup of coffee, or, if he’s feeling particularly wild, a Ribena. And that’s just the way he likes it.

***

The first week after he’s promoted to Head Archivist,  _ someone  _ brings tea to his office. He’s not sure who it is-- Elias chose his assistants for him, and it was sheer dumb luck that he knew Tim and Sasha beforehand. They, at least, had picked up on his... quirk. Apparently, however, they didn’t choose to share this information with the other assistant. 

Which is how Jon finds himself staring at a fresh-faced young man holding a steaming mug.

“Hi...” Jon says, trailing off as an obvious cue that he has forgotten this assistant’s name (well, that implies that he ever actually learned it. Sue him, he just got thrown into a new job, he can be forgiven for that).

“Martin,” says the young man, his smile dimming just a bit, “I uh... brought you some tea.”

“I can see that,” is the curt response from the archivist. “Why?”

The man-- Martin-- freezes. “Uh... because everyone likes a cuppa?”

Jon doesn’t even have the courtesy to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Not me. Thanks anyway.” With that, he looks back at the statement on his desk, a clear dismissal.

“Yes, I know. I mean, um, Sasha said it wasn’t really your thing.” At Jon’s noncommittal grunt, Martin presses on. “But I, uh, I make really good tea.”

Jon raises his eyebrows slightly, sending a withering gaze towards the assistant, who (finally) looks properly chagrined. He starts to leave the office, but before he moves too far, he turns and sets the mug on Jon’s desk, before quickly escaping.

Hours later, the mug is still there, full and lukewarm.

***

The time Jon actually tries Martin’s tea is an accident. Ever since that first day, the assistant has brought a mug into his office and left it on his desk. Every day, Jon has intentionally ignored it, and dumped its contents in the break room sink at the end of the night (leaving the dirtied mug there because it's not  _ technically  _ his dish if he didn’t drink out of it).

He gets complacent. He hadn’t even noticed Martin come in that day, and he was engrossed in a particularly troubling statement (giant spiders... again). Without thinking or looking up, he reached towards the corner of his desk, grabbing the first vaguely cylindrical shape his hand found and raised it to his lips.

And, well... it was good.  _ Really  _ good. Weirdly good.

Before he knows it, he’s finished the mug. 

***

He tries to keep this revelation from Martin. And, for the most part, he’s largely successful-- he still refuses the mug to Martin’s face, but drains it as soon as the door is closed behind him. He has started cleaning the mug at the end of the night, but that’s hardly proof, if anyone asks.

He would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for Martin’s  _ stupid  _ scarf.

The office is frigid this time of year, the combination of the winter chill and the climate-controlled archival library an unfortunate combination. This time, when Martin brings in his tea, he notices Jon shivering profusely. Privately, he finds it adorable-- Jon is already in his largest (and ugliest) sweater, but the air con has a funny way of finding the back of his neck and spreading down his back, no matter how he tries to stop it.

Martin (wisely) says nothing, simply placing the tea in its usual space before walking briskly behind Jon’s desk, unwrapping the scarf from around his own neck and placing it carefully around Jon’s. 

Jon lets his eyes flutter close for a fraction of a second, letting the skin-warmed scarf settle and cover the opening from his sweater. Without thinking, he takes in a deep breath, and is rewarded with a  _ warm  _ scent-- cloves and sandalwood and books. He remembers himself almost immediately, though, and moves his hands quickly towards the offending fabric, prepared to yank it off.

Martin grabs his hands loosely, moving them back down to his desk before letting go. “You need it more than I do, your office is bloody freezing.”

“Yes, well, nothing to be done,” Jon tries to take the scarf off again, just as another cool blast of air comes by. His face is cold, but the scarf helps. A lot. His torso is warm, for once, and he can’t bring himself to take it off, so he lets his hands settle on the desk again before responding. “At least come back and grab it before you leave.”

Martin nods, a little smile gracing his lips as a faint blush paints his cheeks. He clears his throat a bit, before moving to exit the office with a quiet, “have a good day, then.”

Jon lets himself get lost in his work again, sipping the tea quickly before it cools too much. By the time 6 o’clock rolls around, he’s forgotten all about the scarf wrapped around his neck, and is suitably surprised when his office door opens for the second time that day.

Martin must recognize the confusion on his face, because he says “You told me to come back and grab my scarf? I’m sorry, I just... I’m leaving now, and you said to come back and...”

Jon cuts him off, shaking his head slightly as he unwinds the fabric from his neck and passes it to the other man, “You’re right, I did, I just forgot. Here it is, thank you for letting me borrow it.”

He’s ready for that to be it, for Martin to leave him to slowly turn into a popsicle as he finishes work for the day. He’s not ready for Martin to see the  _ clearly empty mug of tea.  _

Thankfully, Martin has the presence of mind not to comment on it, noting the glare Jon sics on him as soon as a grin starts to stretch across his face. “Right. Well. Goodnight, Jon.”

Once Martin is gone, Jon flops back down into his desk chair in a huff, already feeling the chill seep into his bones (despite the frankly  _ horrendous  _ blush that’s spreading across his skin).

Luckily, the next day, Martin brings him his tea as normal, not even commenting on it when Jon raises it directly to his lips instead of fighting. If he notices the little smile on Jon’s face that mimics his own, he doesn’t say anything.

***

When Martin disappears into the Lonely, he stops bringing Jon tea.  _ Obviously,  _ thinks Jon,  _ why would he?  _ Still, he’s disappointed (after being spoiled for  _ literal years  _ by Martin’s tea), and when he’s disappointed, he’s profoundly irritable, a fact that everyone else in his life has picked up on. 

Georgie makes him a cup, but when he tries it, it's just as bitter as every other non-Martin cuppa he’s ever had, no matter what ratio of milk/sugar/honey/lemon she puts in. 

Melanie tries, but he’s pretty sure it probably has some sort of poison in it, so it stays on his desk until it cools and he can dump it in one of the office plants. (It dies the next day, so Jon thinks he dodged a bullet there. Melanie just laughs.)

Daisy’s attempt is scorching hot, and he leaves it to cool. By the time he remembers it's there, it's lukewarm and sludgy and promptly goes down the drain.

Basira doesn’t bother.

For the millionth time, Jon misses Martin achingly.

***

After it all, when Jon and Martin are finally,  _ finally _ back together, in a little cabin in the Scottish Highlands, Jon thinks to ask how Martin gets it perfectly right, when no one else seems to compare.

Martin just laughs, a clear, bright sound that reverberates through their kitchen. “Jon,” he says, eyes full of mirth, “I don’t make you real tea, you dummy. I just boil some Gatorade.”

**Author's Note:**

> HA GET PRANK'D Y'ALL
> 
> Inspired by my own twitter post (https://twitter.com/choose__joy/status/1242526660416524289), because I'm a garbage garbage person and of course this would be the way I introduce myself to the tma fandom.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, I promise I'll write real stuff in the future! You can interact with me at choose__joy on twitter, or thisisadingdongblog on tumblr!


End file.
